


Offer of the Crone

by Lunarium



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 04:31:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9219143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: Sigrun prided herself in never needing anything...until Tuuri gets injured and infected during the expedition.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My final piece for H/C Bingo Round 7 that gets me a bingo. I initially had another idea planned that involved Emil but then the events of Chapter 13 inspired this story, especially the question of how Sigrun might react to seeing Tuuri injured (and very likely infected.) And then this idea came up today and I wrote it all in one go. There may be a few typos. 
> 
> H/C bingo prompt...will be revealed after the fic (it's a Wildcard square.) Also inspired by the SSSS 100 Prompts Challenge: 94. Last Hope. 
> 
> And for extra sad: [Here's a song I kept listening to while writing this.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bce7yiRILS8) I'm sorry.

The crone abode in her dreams, with claws gripping stubbornly on the edges of her memory since infancy, and her hook-like laugh clinging to the edges of her consciousness whenever the waking world drew her back into its arms. 

“Some day you shall seek me. Some day you shall beg me to grant a wish!” The crone would taunt. 

“You are nothing but a miserable old mage-hag who now lies as some miserable troll buried in a mountain far away!” Sigrun always yelled back, flailing out her arms in both fear and defiance. “Some day I will find your nest and kill you!” 

“You will have a want some day, child. And I will be ready for you.” 

Sigrun ran as far as she could from the crone with the dark laugh, and she made sure she never had need for want for anything. Above every viking of Dalsnes she rose in might and valor. In everything she became the best—the _most_ best. The most skilled viking of Dalsnes: the fastest runner, the most ruthless fighter, the most cunning strategist. If over heads of friends she needed to climb to ensure herself the very best, she did not hesitate for a moment, for it kept the crone quiet in the darkest quarters of her dreams where she was most vulnerable. 

When the people of Dalsnes looked up to Captain Sigrun Eide, it was with admiration, with envy, with fear—and she had no want for anything. 

And when Tuuri Hotakainen, skald and mechanic, non-immune crew member of the expedition, stood on the tips of her toes to kiss her lips, Sigrun smiled, for she was well-versed in the art of seduction and romance. The little ducky, her mind and feet were swept away with each caresses, each kiss, each brush of fingers over naked skin…

And somewhere in the shadowy abandoned villages of Denmark, Sigrun’s own heart alit with light for the younger woman. A new vulnerability, wondrous and terrible, to be made wide open for the innocuous woman who worked just inches away from her. 

Sigrun had want for nothing. The expedition, it neared completion and, save for a minor injury of her left arm, with near success. All requested data and materials gathered, one tiny life rescued, one stowaway adopted, no casualty—she was doing remarkably well, her laughter drowning out the crone’s shadowy talons like moonlight fueled by the kisses of her lover. 

And then there was blood, a gash on Tuuri’s shoulder. Death sentence written in her wide, fearful eyes. A battle cruelly lost, after _everything_. Hope had come in wings of fiery glory in hues of gold like the sun. Now shadows consumed them and threatened her mind. Cold fingers clasped around her neck. 

Failure. 

There was laughter in her dreams, but they were no longer hers. She ran to escape them, but the shadow only grew blacker as the crone gained up on her, her black wings swallowing the rays of the sun like mountains closing in around, crushing her under their weight. 

She could not breathe. 

She failed. She failed Tuuri Hotakainen. 

Her steps towards the woman were strangely light, lead-filled as her defeated body felt, as though the wind knew where to carry her: to the very doorstep of the awaiting crone. 

“You want for something,” the crone said, chuckling darkly. “What is it, my dear?” 

Sigrun regarded the old lady, recalling the many years spent running in her foolishness, then she thought of Tuuri, who would be unfairly taken, so young and pure, before speaking. “Heal her.” 

“Every wish comes with payment.” 

As much as she wished to strike the crone, she had no choice; they were running out of time, and the crone was her last hope. Sigrun gripped her injured arm. Also her left, like Tuuri’s bitten left shoulder. Even in her dream, it pained her. It no longer mattered. “Then let my love and I exchange places, but only in one direction. Let me take all of her injuries and her none of mine. Let the illness come to me and let her live.” 

A moment’s silence, and then laughter like the cry of a raven. 

When Sigrun awoke, she knew the crone had granted her wish. She must have been asleep for days. Her neck and arms itched, and heat burned around the site where she had been infected. When she stood up, her vision was blurry for but a moment before they refocused and found Tuuri—without a mask, and perfectly well, though tears clung to her lashes—as she watched Sigrun behind the window of a door. 

Mikkel, attired in a full body suit, reentered the room. He was the only one allowed near her since the incident. 

“Everything we’re trying with the serum isn’t working,” he told her. “We still have _this_ …but the reports had noted brain death…”

“It’s fine,” Sigrun said. “Do whatever you have to do.” 

It was fine, she assured herself again as she met Tuuri’s eyes. Tuuri was in perfect health. Even if she did not make it, would not see another sunrise with her in this now-torn tank, she would at least know Tuuri had not endured any of this. Tuuri did not suffer, and that brought great calm and relief to Sigrun’s heart. She had made a good wish. 

Sigrun gave Tuuri the greatest big smile, and a final bow.

**Author's Note:**

> H/C Bingo prompt: "accept injury to protect someone"


End file.
